


Groceries

by Kelkat9



Series: Unexpected Domestics [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestics, Episode: s03e10 Blink, F/M, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19072069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/pseuds/Kelkat9
Summary: Rose, Jack and the Doctor have to survive with no TARDIS, no resources and a vague idea how they’ll get home after a run in with the stone angels.  The day has come for the Doctor to step up and do his part of domestics.  Part One of Unexpected Domestics Series





	1. Chapter 1

“Here’s the grocery list.” Rose thrust her hand forward, scribbled scrap of paper shoved in the Doctor’s face.

“What do you expect me to do with that?” He barely glanced up from the spread of mechanical parts on the rickety wood coffee table.  Rose thought she might have detected something that looked like part of the transistor radio Jack bought last week. Not a good sign. 

“I expect you to do the shopping,” Rose shook the paper, glancing at the round vintage wall clock.  Well, vintage to her but this was 1969. “I’ve got to leave or I’ll be late for work.” She tossed the shopping list until it fluttered into the middle of his half-built device.  Followed by an envelope with currency, all she could spare.

“Send Jack.”

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose.  He’d been hiding out in their tiny one bedroom flat for days now working on his temporal detector thinga-ma-jig.

“He’s at work.  We’re out of milk, tea and anything edible.”

“I’m busy.  We have to be ready for anyone else that comes through and shopping, Rose?”  He snorted, aiming his sonic at the metal parts until they sparked. “Domestics.” He spit the oh so familiar word out and shattered Rose’s last nerve.

She shifted the strap of her purse and straightened her sleeveless sheath, a pretty yellow dress with white daisies, the latest fashion.  Her manager had given her a few outfits to model and sell at the shop. Rose was only too happy to help. Someone other than Jack needed to support them and it wasn’t going to be the Doctor.

“It’s shopping. Not having the neighbors for tea which we can’t because we don’t have food.  I suggest you get over it.” she didn’t hold back. None of them had the luxury of ego. She glanced again at the clock, backing toward the door, nearly tripping over a destroyed vacuum in her chunky heeled knee-high boots.  “Especially if you want to eat tonight.”

“Can’t you pick it up on the way home.” Another annoyed Time Lord snit and a slight whinge entered his voice.

“My manager offered me overtime.  We need the money if we want a roof over our heads or stuff for you to build your thing.”  Rose wasn’t being dramatic. Jack made decent wages at the club but starting out fresh with no TARDIS or resources meant they were strapped for cash.  Rose’s stomach rumbled in emphasis. 

The Doctor’s head snapped up.

“There’s small market down the block.  May not be the market on Rooglavik IV but it has the basics.  Go in, buy the stuff on the list, pay and come home. Besides, you need to get out for a bit.”  She eyed the yellow light glowing against the avocado carpet, a stale scent in the air making her only to happy to head to her job even if it was back in a shop selling clothes instead of saving the universe.

“When did you eat last?” The Doctor stood up, grabbing the list and stuffing it into his coat pocket, before marching over to Rose, his face softening as he moved in front of her.

“I’m all right.  I’ve got a couple of biscuits stuffed in my purse,” Rose promised patting her handbag.  He bore enough guilt over the whole stone angel debacle that brought them here.

“No, you’re not.”  His hand cupped her cheek and Rose melted into him.  It was his secret power, low Northern burr and calloused fingers caressing her cheek. 

“Doctor.” One word that she breathed out like a love song.  She denied it was. “We’ll be okay.” She stepped into his arms, pressing her nose into his leather clad chest before tipping her head to meet piercing blue eyes.  “I know you’ll get us home. It’s just we all have to pull together and sometimes you have to go out, explore, mingle with the natives, use the wrong verbs.” She grinned repeating back to him what he once said to her.

A brilliant smile lit his face. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” She pecked his cheek, leaving a smudge of red lipstick which she smeared into a rosy glow on his cheek. “Try to stay out of trouble, yeah.  We don’t have bail money.” She backed out as he rolled his eyes.

“Expert time traveler me.” 

Rose slipped out groaning.  Expert time traveler and trouble magnet.  A lot more than he accused her of.

Later that night, after a day of feet aching and not having eaten more than crisps, a soda and cheese sandwich her coworker shared with her, Rose arrived home hoping for real food.  She found the flat quiet. Too quiet. But with the soft glow from the sofa lamp illuminating a metallic device that certainly looked like it detected something. Or blew up stuff. One never knew around the Doctor.

“Jack?  Doctor?”

No answer.  Never a good sign.  Her heart skipped a beat in panic.  Her one fear was being stuck here alone. Rose dropped her purse, inhaling a deep calming breath fighting back the panic and that’s when the most incredible scent in the universe slammed into her.

“Chips.”  Like a zombie drawn to brains, she moved toward the kitchen.  Yeah, she really needed to not think about zombies. Wasn’t  _ Night of the Living Dead _ set in the 60s? Did they talk about zombies in 1969?  Pondering anachronisms, she walked into the kitchen to find the Doctor, greasy paper bags and paper plates laid out with fried fish, chips, and bananas.

A giggle burst out.

“Your list was rubbish.  Like I don’t know what my companions need.” Rose raced into his arms, hugs being her current favorite thing.  They always were with him. Especially with leather clad arms wrapped around her.

Being cut off from everything, her mum, Mickey, the TARDIS and protecting the charge on her mobile for emergencies, hugs were part of survival.

“Thank you.”  Rose caught a glance of tins stacked in a cabinet along with some dried goods, bread and God was that jammy dodgers?  She should ask where he got enough cash to buy all this. But right now, a hot meal came first.

He shuffled her out to the living room before she could say another word.  Shoving aside metal shavings, screws, glass tubes and wires, they sat together on the sofa, digging into their meal.

“Where’s Jack?” she mumbled around a delicious piece of fish, just the right amount of crispy batter.

The Doctor snorted.  “Date, if that’s what you want to call it.”

“Good for Jack.  At least he’s making the best of it.  Just like we are.” She hummed and licked her fingers before bumping her shoulder into his.

“I suppose.” He drew out the word in that low not entirely believable tone.  Rose sighed, shoved another chip in her mouth before reaching for the bottle of beer sitting on the table.

“Course we are.  We got here, found shelter, made local connections and got to work.  Look at us now. You’ve got your time thingy. We know from meeting Sally Sparrow at least part of what happens is meeting some bloke from the future who’s sent back and is gonna help us.  May not know when but that’s part of the fun.”

“You and I have two different ideas of fun.  Fun Rose Tyler, is taking you to the banana festival on Phenor.  Stuck in a flat on Earth in 1969 Walthamstow with substandard tea on a squeaky sofa is not.”  He bounced up and down making said sofa squeak.

Rose choked down a swallow of ale before curling her legs under her and snuggling up to his side.  Another salty chip in her grasp.

“May not be a banana festival.”  She popped the chip in her mouth enjoying her treat.  “Or on a fantastic time ship but it’s not so bad.”

“It’s worse than I thought.”  He pressed cool fingers against her forehead and she grinned around another chip and grabbed his wrist.

“We’re safe.  Fed. And Together.”  She punctuated each word with a kiss before lacing her fingers through his noting how he swallowed hard and his lips parted ever so slightly.

“There are bananas in the kitchen,” she continued pleased at his reaction.  “And  _ My Favorite Martian _ is about to come on the telly.” She inclined her head to their still intact small black and white tube television. At least he hadn’t gotten to that yet.  Or had he…

She eyed him staring at her, not flinching in fact, there was an intent look on his face.

“Did you sonic the telly?” The question spilled out before she could stop herself.  His lips twitched and his eyes developed that I’m so fantastic twinkle.

“Do you still trust me?”

“With my life.  And apparently my telly on date night.”

His face froze and he snatched the beer bottle, throat working until he drained it much to her amusement.

“Date, this isn’t… I mean dating is a lot more than this.  Especially for you. And don’t let Jack try and tell you anything else.  You deserve better.”

“You took me for adventures in your time ship.  Met my mum. Got slapped by her and still took me off. Bought me a flat and dinner.  Now we’re watching telly. Best date of my life. Now, that’s out of the way. What are you showing me on the telly that’s better than  _ My Favorite Martian _ or Time Traveling Alien?”   Gauntlet thrown. If Rose was stuck on repressed Earth working in a shop having to control every instinct to lecture patriarchal idiots, she was setting things straight with the Doctor. 

An unusual silence permeated the flat before he set the beer bottle down with a thump.

“You could do better.”

“Maybe, but I like what I’ve got right here.  Now you gonna sonic the telly or what?” He stretched out, boots propped on the messy electronics covered coffee table.  With flourish he aimed the sonic at the television which flickered to life.

“Blastonik Corvack.  Alien Disney. To be specific,  _ Escape from Witch Mountain _ which doesn’t appear on Earth until 1975.”

“That’s not you preparing me to run from the evil government agency tracking us down to this flat is it?” Rose wiggled her toes still sore from work.  She wasn’t keen on a run for her life tonight.

“Hardly.  Even if they did, there’s the inklings of UNIT about.  Remember?”

“Yeah, they tried to kill you.  Along with a bunch of Slitheen.”

“Not in 1969.  They’re just getting wind of me. And there’s no sign of anything alien around here except me.  Just boring suburban London. Now do you want to watch the film?” 

Rose settled back, not entirely satisfied.  After all this was the Doctor and them. Aliens tended to happen around them.  Along with evil organizations or those intent on taking over Earth. 

“Far be it from me to ruin date night.  Go on then. Impress me.” She grabbed her chips, happily snuggled to his side.  His arm wrapped around her shoulders and soon they were both immersed in the English version of squid-like youths in a very Disney like film running for their lives and standing up against evil government types.”

1969 wasn’t all that bad after all.  Maybe she should send him to the store more often if it got her date night and snuggle on the sofa.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to add a second part. Next domestics adventure will be a separate fic. Thanks so much for reading!

The last of the Time Lords, the Oncoming Storm…domesticated. Sort of.

When did it happen?

He looked down at Rose, nose pressed into his jumper, a bit of drool glistening on her lower lip. The telly had long since gone dark. And being the now softy alien sod, he didn’t dare move and waken Rose. 

He was completely and utterly domesticated.  Enough to not brush off date night.

And he knew very well it started when he said  _ Run _ . 

The moment had reverberated in his time sense like the tolling of the Cloister bells.  He’d thought it meant his end. At least he’d die on Earth, in one last attempt to preserve life.  It never occurred to him the universe was playing the biggest joke. Blow up a building and get the damsel who saved his arse.

Rose Tyler snuggled against his side, warmth coursing from her to him.  Like it had been ever since run. Through exploding planets, Gelth in Cardiff, a Dalek, Downing Street, time lines gone wrong, mistakes, misunderstandings, a misguided time agent and stone angel assassins. And there they were in a flat cuddling.  Impulses rebelled, raged and pounded at him to withdraw, be the great problem solver and outthink the enemy like he always had done. Not be the alien teddy bear.

Except, just maybe, he was a little tired of the constant universal battle 

His fingers slipped through strands of silky hair fallen loose from her mod hairstyle.  So soft, scented with chemically enhanced floral cleanser. Her hair may suffer from inferior shampoo, but the woman, the Rose who swallowed back missing her mum and fearing this era and what would happen, was anything but soft. She got to work solving more problems than he had.

The clock, the archaic human construct he’d derided, ticked ominously on the wall.

Rose didn’t fear time chipping away at her life. Even hungry and scared, she kept moving forward.  What had he done but hid, avoiding the reality of being stuck. 

Of blinking.  It had been his fault.  Neither Rose or Jack blamed him.  But Rose called him on his less than Time Lord behavior when they got here.  His strong companion, more than him really. Date night proved it.

He’d risen to her challenge like he would any day on the TARDIS.  Like he had that first trip determined to impress her.

Grocery shopping.  The words still tasted as vile even if the act hadn’t been half bad.  Didn’t want to do it but did for her. Her pale face and growling stomach still twisted in his chest. Bloody stupid Time Lord couldn’t even feed his companions.  Well bugger that. 

Her nose wrinkled and a slight snore issued between pink lips.  The same lips that let him have it earlier that day.

His hearts beat in a steady thud for her.  Groceries became a mission. His personal challenge to show Rose he could do domestic better than anyone.  Time Lord him. Expert in anything he chose. He’d slammed out of the flat, through the parking lot, neighbors scattering out of his path.

Marching down the two-laned street in an oncoming storm strut, a not so old 1965 Mini passed him. His steps slowed as he fought off a sudden nostalgia.  He’d lived on Earth before. Made friends even. 

A bright yellow advert tacked to a wall advertising Bad Wolf Theatre reminded him of Bessie, his not quite Edwardian Roadster with a little more personality than a standard Earth car.  The tightness coiled in his chest eased slightly. Those hadn’t been bad days even though he’d been grounded.

But this time, he lacked his oldest companion.  With the telepathic link to the TARDIS barely a whisper separated by decades, he bristled like a wet cat at any slight delay from getting her back.  Such as the faint scent of metallic ions in the air that didn’t belong in a neighborhood like Walthamstow.

Two shops down, he stopped in front of a plate glass window advertising a television repair shop.  Well anything repair shop given the vacuums, radios and stereo equipment jammed into the tight, dimly lit shop.  Ignoring the tinkling bell on the door, the Doctor bypassed a woman demanding a ponytailed new aged bloke fix her favorite hoover.

Poor sod perked up as the Doctor passed.  Probably expected a rescue. But the Doctor had bigger fish to fry then diverting a middle aged house wife worried about a bit of grime. Not that he didn’t hesitate party way to the back.  He missed the chatter of his companions who most assuredly would be interested in all of this. Probably cause more trouble he’d have to solve. Doing this wasn’t as fun on his own.

He shrugged off the pang of lonely adventuring. Following the scent, he pushed past a black curtain into the back room ignoring the sign that said no admittance.

“No customers in the backroom.  Says so on the sign.” The aging man in a light blue cardigan called out. He didn’t look up, too busy hunched over a bench, soldering iron in his hand pressed to a circuit board that the Doctor assessed not from this era.  In fact, it wasn’t even from this planet. 

“Sorry, missed the sign and followed the scent of caustic metal.  Mind telling e where you got that circuit board?” The Doctor hovered behind the man who whipped around, shoving up his protective goggles. 

“Look Mister whoever you are, I’m very busy on an important project.  See Mr. Jones out front.”

“It’s Doctor, and that project is about to catch fire.” Blue flames shot up emphasizing the Doctor’s prediction.

“No!”  the man hopped out of his chair and grabbed a towel beating on the flames which only made it worse and produced thick choking smoke.

“You’re lucky it didn’t explode.”  The Doctor yanked the man back, aimed his sonic setting it to reverse an over excited ionic reaction and the flames snuffed out.  The smoke hung in the air and a fire alarm eventually blared.

“Who are you?” The man batted uselessly at the smoke reaching for the circuit board, sucking his finger at a burn the minute he touched it.

“Stupid apes,” the Doctor muttered and winced.  Rose would not be happy. Jack would have a lecture ready. They had to fit in.  Not raise alarms. A smile tugged at his lips at the raucous noise. He risked the attention to his sonic and aimed it up to turn the bloody thing off.

“Now then,” the Doctor turned to the man.  “Advanced technology is not to be poked at with some primitive soldering tool.  You might notice how your eyes are burning. Might do to rinse them out with some saline solution.  Wouldn’t want to lose any more vision than you already have.”

Wide eyed panic greeted the Doctor as the man raced toward a back-corner sink, water pouring from the faucet as shaky gnarled hands reached for a salt shaker. 

“Typical.” The Doctor swallowed back any further commentary about primitive societies and people poking at what they shouldn’t.  Instead, he made the saline solution and rinsed out the bloke’s eyes. He turned on a fan to blow out the smoke which had already had a chemical reaction with the plastic tile ceiling melting bits which dripped down and plopped on the floor.

“Now, then, what did you say your name is?” the Doctor asked as the harrumphing human wiped a towel on his face.

“Mr. Troyer, you all right?”  The clerk from the front asked, barely peeking around the curtain, mouth agape as he took in the melted ceiling.

“No worries about Mr. Troyer.  Mr. Jones is it? He’ll be fine,” the Doctor assured.  “Might do to take care of the front.” Mr. Jones wisely withdrew.

“You said you’re a Doctor?”  Mr. Troyer coughed into his white towel.

“That cough will stick around for at least a day until your lungs clear.  Groknul titanium does that when its super-heated. You ready to tell me where you got it?”  He crossed his arms in his best Time Lord authority figure and almost cringed at the thought.  Once upon a time he’d have run far and fast from being that stodgy.

“My brother runs an auction business and found it in a house he was clearing, the one on Wester Drumlins.  It was just parts, junk, nothing valuable. He gave it to me for work.” Prominent jaw stuck out Mr. Troyer puffed out his chest.  “And you Doctor, how exactly did you find your way in here right before it set fire?” The Doctor responded accordingly.

“Smelled it a block away.  You’re lucky. This shop and you could have been vaporized.  Might think about that next time you go sticking a soldering iron on something when you don’t know what it is.”

By this time, a woman with black hair of gravity defying heights whipped into the room.

“You can say that again.  Look at this mess!” Maroon pantsuit and jacket with a frown etched on ruby red lips the woman narrowed in on Mr. Troyer.  The Doctor picked up the now melted and still slightly warm circuit board along with a couple other parts that looked non terrestrial and pocketed them in his bigger on the inside pockets whilst poor Mr. Troyer received a tongue lashing from what looked like Mrs. Troyer.

“I warned you this would happen.  Always playing around with your brother’s junk instead of fixing the stuff we get paid for!”

“Nannette, stay out of this.”  Troyer glared at the Doctor.

“You caused this!”  He wagged a finger at the Doctor before running a hand through smoke discolored graying ginger hair damp and curled at the nape of his neck.

“I saved your life and your shop.  You’re welcome and next time, listen to the missus.”  The Doctor envisioned his missus, Rose, who probably would have been the first to lecture Mr. Troyer.  Of course, that’s when Mrs. Troyer directed a Jackie Tyler worthy glare at the Doctor.

“And that’s my cue,” the Doctor said with his most charming smile and nod at said missus.  “Remember fire safety first. Next time you might not get your fire code permit renewed.” He backed out and dashed from the store, nodding at the clerk who sat behind the counter dazed.

“But we just got our fire permit renewed.”

“Good man,” the Doctor nodded and ducked out the door just as the fire brigade motored down the street. 

Time traveler’s instincts. 

Too bad Rose wasn’t here to see this.  Then again, she’d probably ask him why he hadn’t made it to the shop.

Groceries, yes.  He patted his pocket, warm from his latest adventure, and marched past a few women with prams out for their morning walks.  Peace once again reigned. Except for a possible alien incursion and not him this time. 

Groceries first.  Which ended up entirely too boring.  Except for the produce clerk who had a keen eye for the best bananas.  And for measurements. Could tell the weight of anything just by holding it.  Fantastic.

Of course, the human women were another story.

“Need some help, love?” Blonde hair and not the lovely color Rose used, the tall woman unafraid to show off her legs and other assets sidled up to the Doctor.

“No, think I got it.” He didn’t but he refused to admit how bolluxed he was by the logic and layout of the shop.  Produce seemed easy so he started there. Bananas check. 

“I see.  Bananas, long, tapered, just the right size.”

“Full of potassium,” he countered and moved toward another display

“You know how to tell if the tomatoes are ripe?  You have to be careful, pick them up gentle like and then squeeze.”  Heavily mascaraed eyes fluttered at him.

“Uh no.”  The Doctor escaped down the first aisle he came to, trolley in front of him, and holy Gallifrey he could not believe he pushed a trolley.  But he did. In the bread aisle. 

He thought about the scrap of paper in his pocket.  Under the still simmering circuit board and elected to use his impressive memory instead.  That would have worked if he had actually looked at it. 

Bread sounded reasonable so he tossed it in, He kept up his pace stopping to pluck a box of cereal off the top shelf for an elderly lady.  Mrs. Himmelman who knew the store back to front and proceeded to give the Doctor a tour. 

Along with pointing out how to get the most groceries for his quid.  And introduced him to the mysterious and very human world of couponing.  A challenge that piqued his interest. Strategy, maths and working the system appealed to him despite the domestic smell of it.

He helped Mrs. Himmelman double her savings with some creative choices, a few arguments and maybe some psychic paper.  It wasn’t cheating. He repaid a debt of gratitude and he’d go to this last regeneration arguing it.

Sacks stuffed in his other pocket, or creatively balanced on his arm, he walked by the familiar house.  Nothing smelled off. No tingles raced across his time sense. He wouldn’t risk going in and getting tossed into another era.  Getting bounded around time by angel assassins was not his idea of the fun kind of adventure. And he wouldn’t abandon Rose. Jack either if he was honest. At that moment, the thought of losing Rose cut deep into his hearts.  No, he wouldn’t risk it. Not her.

He did do a few discrete sonic scans.  Too bad Rose wasn’t there to see him. Nothing obvious.  Might have a few lingering traces from something that once ended up there.  Not unlike them. The three of them would come back later.

Once away from the house where it all started and having accomplished his mission, the heavy atmosphere of loss dissipated and the day brightened.  Funny how that worked. His steps lightened, less the clomping boots from earlier, more the light steps of a man on a mid-day walk. Even the flat didn’t seem half bad.

No that was a lie.  Dingy, dreary and lots of other less kind words could be used about the yellowed walls, worn green carpet and second hand furniture that was tattered and ready to collapse.  But it was home. Such as it was and he would make it better.

He made a short clean up of the galley kitchen in all it’s mustard yellow and brown glory.  Put away supplies. Sorting the alien tech ended up helping on his project. In celebration and along with his victory against the grocery shop, he used the spoils of couponing to buy dinner.

And now his day ended with a snuggled Rose and a warm fuzzy sensation of things not being grim.  All because she put her foot down against his Time Lord moping. That was his Rose. 

The clock ticked past midnight.  Time to put tired companions to bed.  Scooping her up, she sighed and his hearts skipped a beat.  One day, they’d end a date by more than him tucking her in and going off to tinker. 

The front door handle jiggled.  Ah Jack. Timing as good as ever.  He brushed his lips against her cheek to another sigh and his name whispered in the dark.  One day, he’d tell her the truth about how important she was to him, tell the entire universe.  A shiver shot down his spine at how the universe would convulse around them. Weird that.

 


End file.
